


A Mother's Iridescent Heart

by Maxiumum_UwU



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Baby dweet, Cooking, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Entity Crows, Healing, Heartwarming, Hunting, Reader is huntress, Survival, imagined unbirthing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 15:48:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26590117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maxiumum_UwU/pseuds/Maxiumum_UwU
Summary: The end of the match is the beginning of a change for The Huntress. The dark fog of this murderous world had infected the heart of all the killers, but even the heaviest fogs can be lifted by the warmth of a sun. A baby Dweet, and a childless mother. Can this warmth lift the fog? RAFO
Relationships: Anna | The Huntress & Dwight Fairfield
Comments: 12
Kudos: 27





	1. Softening Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Author Note: I know you seem mean at first, but that’s only to make you feel the heartwarming. Plz don’t get mad at too much mean. You’re actually really nice, but survivors can be so toxic D:

A Mother's Iridescent Heart  
Chapter 1 of 3  
Softening Hearts 

The echoing sound of the entity in the sky tells you that the hunt is on and you take off with blistering speed. The hatch will open soon, and the hunt is on. Your massive, powerful legs pound into the soft earth in front of Autohaven Wreckers. Before you, a hill, crested by the towering sight of a hook which scrapes the sky with murder. 

As you pass the hook, you hear the metal clang to the ground. The entity has claimed another sacrifice, you have reached your vantage point and the black lock springs open. There, in the distance, the faintest of red scratches can be seen and your heart begins to beat louder and louder with the thrill of the hunt. You had spent 6 good minutes staring at your prey, ready to strike at any dirty scavengers that dare take your meat. This last one was not going to ruin your glorious victory. 

Grabbing the shaft of your trusty hatchet, you calculate the exact location of that dirty creature. You hadn’t seen them at all this trial, likely because they were hiding in some dirty locker like some kind of frightened nerd, and this might be your only chance to bring them down. Expertly, you spin in place, the wind whipping your azure veil behind you like a gossamer tail. Then, in a perfect 360 turn, you release your hatchet. The glass-like head sparkles in the moonlight. It hums as it whirls, resonating with the fog itself. Then, a moment of silent. Then the cry of your prey. A little dwitch. “Aзарт!”

On the way to pick up the little gen-rushing dweetard, you get a boost of confidence in hearing the errooom of the hatch. You think about shutting it now, but couldn’t risk him getting a burst of adrenaline from the impending collapse. The thought of him bouncing up and down with his infuriating butt dance stirs you into a frenzy and rushes you by. Maybe you’d taunt him with the hatch that he didn’t get a chance to camp. Maybe. 

So, you follow the blood trail, ready to put an end to this toxic asshole who spent the entire time hiding, not unhooking anyone. You know this because you were watching and he never showed. Oh, oh, oh how you’re going to destroy him when you find him, to make him pay, to make him suffer. But what you see at the end of that trail of blood stops you dead in your tracks. It’s like having a light shined right in your eyes, it’s debilitating. You’re pallet stunned. (not literally though, lol)

There before you lies a baby dweet, white shirt, little tie. Huddled on the ground, still crawling toward the exit gate. He looked so young, so innocent. You reach down and see him curl up to hide from you, as if you can’t see him. It’s so precious and pure. His quivering lips and precious sobs drive that maternal instinct within you, a feeling you had never felt for a man before. Something reserved only for little girls, the true image of innocence. But you see it here, right here, right now. This full grown man is emulating the aura of an infant. “детка”

As you lift him into your arms, it feels as though you’re holding your own малышка. You want to put a bow on her head and an axe in her hand. You want her to know she is safe and precious to you. Your heart swoons as you take your powerful, по-матерински steps and every predatory instinct in your body fades away. Their little, balled up, драгоценный fists don’t even struggle. 

“That was it,” you decide, “детка gets hatch.” And so you carry him back the way you came. The journey is not physically difficult. He does not toss or turn, too terrified to try anything. It was mentally difficult though, for it broke your heart to see the little baby dweet so defeated. There was none of that evil in his eyes. No malice in his face. His hands looked as though they had never touched a toxic flashlight or accursed key. No. He was pure and needed to stay that way. 

You hold the Dweet close to your chest, fearing you could never let them go… if he escaped he might learn of the evils of this world, might learn the corrupt dances of the other survivors… but maybe… just maybe… you wouldn’t have to. From here you could see the hatch on one side and the garage on the other. It was time to make your choice. 

While this wasn’t your mother’s cabin, you could make this place your home, your new жилище. There seemed to be food near the garage, and you could certainly hunt crows. Images flash in your mind. Images of teaching your little dweetlet how to hunt for crows, how to defeather them, how to make little necklaces out of their bones and sinue. It wouldn’t be much, but you could definitely make it work. It would be nice. 

But then, darkest thoughts fill up your mind. You’d have to tell him stories about the dangers of the dark hatch. You worry he might grow too curious. What if when he got older he’d want to see the world beyond this safe place. You’d lose him forever. It might be better to take him far away, and hunt him until he bleeds out, ensuring that he’d never learn, that he’d never be corrupted. Surely that would be better than lying to him. 

Cradling your baby dweet, looking upon that baby face, innocent and pure, a true virgin in every sense. You could not lie to a face like that… but you couldn’t bare yourself to hurt him again, to stab him once more. So you take him to the garage and down to the basement… his new жилище. 

\---- to be continued ---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author Note: Hey guys, I hope you enjoyed this story. I want to thank my bffs Boone and Jaguar for encouraging me to write this and helping me add russian. I’d like to thank my ex-gf for supporting me in general lol!! If I get 5 positive comments I’ll release the next chapter. Like and subscribe for more Maximum UwU


	2. Learning to Live. Learning to Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's the difference between a protective parent and a face-camping mom? Can the Huntress lay down the house rules without pushing him too far? Being a mom is hard, especially when you don't have any chains. Will she be able to hold onto this baby dweet or will he flee the nest before she's ready? RAFO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: OMG I can’t believe I’m releasing this already! You guys are the best! Thanks again to my BFF Boone and my ex GF. I couldn’t have done the Russian without you guys! d^.^b

Down in the basement beneath Autohaven Wreckers, your baby dweet, propped against the basement wall, whimpers, still wounded from your iridescent hatchet. He looks up at you, confused, like he is expecting you to place his precious little body upon the sacred meat hooks of the entity. You want to look into those fearful, watery eyes and tell him that he will be okay. But, sadly, he doesn’t speak Russian, and you doubt he will believe you anyway. So, you do what you can. You head over to your chest, knowing that a first aid kit is likely there. But, alas, it has been pilfered by the greedy little hands of thieves! Surly it was that accursed Ace! 

This throws you into a rage as you bring your axe down on the wood of the chest with a mighty crash. The sound of wood splintering, metal giving way, and your angered, demonic cries echo off of the basement walls. A blood fury takes hold and would have possibly spelled the end for what little furniture was within grasp, if it were not for the bloody echoes, the screams of your dweet, started by your outburst.

At once, motherly instinct takes hold. “Успокойся, моя кричащая маленькая девственница” you say, resting your calloused hands against his face. “Мама вернется. Она получает лекарство. Не уходи. Я тебя люблю.” He whimpers and turns his face away, scared. You fear he did not understand you, but there was no time. He would surely bleed out without your help. So, you leave him there where it would be hard to get away.

Off you go, into the fog, trying to rack your memory of where you found that Ace. Damn that wicked smile, blasphemous smirk, the grin that even death could not rid from him. He thought he could hide like a Jaguar in a jungle, but that dirty, good for nothing, backstabbing bitch got what was coming to him. You caught that good for nothing looting a chest while he left his friends to die. He reminded you of those soldiers you killed all those years ago. It took longer than you wished but you eventually found the spot where you smacked that kit from his hand. With the red little box in your hand you head back to Autohaven Wreckers and the basement below.

“Мать дома.” You call, but there is no response. You thought at least he’d yelp in terror or sob in pain. Surely he hadn’t died for the world had not collapsed. Your world had not collapsed. Not yet. Quickly, you rush outside and search far and wide for his pitiful whimpers and to your horror, they grow louder as you approach the car pile that separates the autohaven from the hatch.

Faster and faster you sprint toward the dark hole, his one chance escape, but as you do so, the whimpers grow quieter and quieter. Relief fills your heart as you peel away and find his position. He was laying next to the exit gate door, arm reaching up for the unpowered switch, not knowing that he couldn’t escape. He truly was innocent. You pick him up and take him back to basement.

You give him the first aid kit and point deep into the darkness below. “Оставаться.”  
He takes a step forward and you find yourself raising your hatchet out of instinct. You’d never hurt him, but right now this appears to be all he understands. “oh jeezers” he says, stepping back.

You throw your hatchet into the back corner and repeat “Оставаться” This time, you think he understands. So, you head upstairs to fetch him dinner.

An hour or so passes. In that time, you gather wood, build a fire in front of Autohaven Wreckers and take out a couple crows to feast upon. As you cook the crows over your open fire, you can’t help but wonder what the entity must think. Surely, it is displeased. Yet, maybe, just maybe, in that dark heart in the center of it all, the entity might understand. Dweet awoke something in you, maybe it too will smile.

You stop and you plead to the entity to grant you mercy. You beg it to grant you the power to protect this baby dweet. How you wished to shelter him from this darkness. Once more, you begged, “please, let me take him to my womb where he will be safe from the horrors of the world.” In your mind, you conjured the image of dark tendrils erupting from below to softly envolpe your детка Dweet and draw him inside you where he shall forever be safe. But this was not to be.

The featherless crows which now roasted over the fire began to screech and toss about, which you read as the entity’s displeasure. Not one to be dissuaded by omens, you cleave the heads from the crows and cease their infernal racket. Then, when they had turned a golden brown, you placed one inside the empty first aid kit to bring to your dweetlet as a gift, a peace offering, a lunch box.

\---- To be Continued ---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s Note: You’re all the best! (UwU) Thanks for being so supportive. One more chapter to go! I’ll release it when we get 20 Kudos! The next chapter is waaaaaay better than this one, so please don’t make everyone else wait too long Okie Dokie?


End file.
